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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706102">Paparazzi on Broomsticks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusciousmouthboy/pseuds/lusciousmouthboy'>lusciousmouthboy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fanfic Free Fridge [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:42:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,310</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29706102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusciousmouthboy/pseuds/lusciousmouthboy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>My first and only stab at an HP next-gen fic. Switches between James' and Albus' POVs.</p><p>There's light depression, unfairly famous children, plotting and gossiping, and a really cool scene in my really cool version of Ravenclaw Tower. Possibly some nascent Scorbus?</p><p>Please note this work is unedited and unfinished and will not ever be edited or finished! It's not a story! It's just a couple chapters.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fanfic Free Fridge [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2164563</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. James</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This work has not been edited! This work is incomplete! And really really short!</p><p>I wrote it during my prosetry phase. Shrug emoji!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James Sirius Potter could hardly take a shit without someone hearing of it.</p>
<p>At present, Spangler C. Elliot was metres down the second-floor corridor, yet again in pursuit of another bleeding photograph. James was sprinting to the staircase, considering chucking himself over the side with the casual ennui of a thing considered too many times to have any significance. A running joke with himself. This time, James wondered -- feet pounding down to the first landing -- if he’d have the time to throw Elliot a few fyre-birds before the marbled floors caught him, <br/>    wondered how many Galleons Elliot or one of the others would fetch for the jump, and the subsequent <br/>crunch.</p>
<p>So bloody many, he nodded. And he’d never give them the monetary satisfaction.  He leapt to the landing, heard Spangler’s strangled breaths behind him. </p>
<p>    further father. </p>
<p>    The kind of satisfaction that they got out of selling Potters to the masses. (How many days would it take Puce to right him back if he jumped? Three? Seven?)</p>
<p>He glanced back. Elliot was about to bulge over. Oh, the ever-loving fucking struggle. James gave him a farewell V salute, and hopped upon the bannister and slid; </p>
<p>winding, winding around, <br/>down to the Entrance. </p>
<p>He shouldered the heavy doors open, the satisfying crack of bone on wood, and out into the early November darkness. </p>
<p>There was no moon in the sky.</p>
<p>Perfect.</p>
<p>James paused for a moment by the Black Lake. He stared at the reflection of the starless and moonless sky in the still <br/>water, carded his hair, and took off jogging.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>%</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wankers really shouldn’t start chases they can’t keep up with, and yet,” James Sirius Potter finished, mouth full of chunks of Crispy Cat. </p>
<p>Fred Weasley the Second nodded emphatically, eyes wide, and plucked the tail from the crunchy chocolate cat.</p>
<p>“But why hasn’t McGonagall booted them yet?,” Chas pondered, facing the two boys upside-down, feet propped upon Duggit’s bedposts,<br/>Duggit -- He, reclining on the mattress opposite.</p>
<p>Fred looked at her aghast, mouth still full of chunks of Crispy Cat.</p>
<p>Duggit chimed in, “Chas, sweetling, we’ve been campaigning for it since their Sorting.”</p>
<p>“Actually, think it was the Express. Remember Puffin?” James said from the cushy floor between the beds.</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah!” Fred greedily exclaimed, hand reaching in for another bit of Crispy Cat.</p>
<p>Duggit bowed his head, sage-like, “Ah, Puffin. We did get him off it.”</p>
<p>“You cursed him six ways ‘til Sunday.” Fred recalled, beaming.</p>
<p>“And who says lasting, healthy relationships can’t be borne out of mutual disgust?” Duggit asked the boys on the floor, the forlorn pillows surrounding them, Chas’ strawberry blonde curtain of hair, the dormitory in general.</p>
<p>Chas snorted. Her hair shimmied down the side of the mattress, “I don’t think it was anyone who claimed that. Ever, Floyd.”</p>
<p>“Right, well, important person with important problems speaking now,” James clucked at the wandering group, (his ducks, Fred’s ducks? they’ve all lost any semblance of?)<br/>“There’s Elliot, Gil-Gomez, Condly, Twit-Tits, and... are they all that’s left?”(leadership.)</p>
<p>“On you, mate. I’ve still got Spinner, Handley, Al’s got Treya and Yu, at least... ah, assistance?” Fred gnawed around a second paw of Crispy Cat.</p>
<p>Chas sat up straight.</p>
<p>Her face was blood-rushed, but she answered as composed and pedantic as was typical of her.</p>
<p>“Fred Weasley II: Nat Spinner, Delia Handley, Missive Smith. You missed Smith.” prim index finger.<br/>“James S. Potter: Spangler Elliot, Christobal Christobal, nix Gomez -- I took care of him last week -- Ulee Condly, and yes, bloody Twit-Tits. Oh, can’t forget Jessie Augustine. He cottoned on September, hoping to make a quick Sickle I heard. He’ll be simple enough to handle.” cracking of knuckles.<br/>“Albus S. “No Comment” Potter: Treya Findlay, Jin Seu-Yu, Kinney... Call a Hippogriff?”<br/>snapping out of syllables.</p>
<p>“Calligraphy.” Duggit, the Muggleborn who finds this surname ridiculously amusing, tossed out.</p>
<p>“Ah, yes.” tapping of forehead in-between fringe.<br/>“Lily Luna (really, though, Jamesyourfather, really?) Potter: erm?” spreading of hands empty, uselessly.</p>
<p>“Nuh, Chas. Nuh.” Fred bit the ears off the Crumbly Kitty. He spat an ear on the carpet.  “Wait, wait, nuhnuhnuh. Does she actually have no one? In what wizarding world is that even fair?” He groused, plucked up the spittled, mutilated ear and continued chewing.</p>
<p>“She’s beaten the piss out of anyone who’s tried, Fred. And if and when she can’t get away with that any longer...” James glowered at the curtains opposite him, his wand sparked on the carpet. “Six ways ‘til Sunday will seem positively saintly in comparison to what I’m planning.”</p>
<p>Chas acknowleged his roiling fury approvingly. </p>
<p>“Malfoy.” straggling pinky finger. “Trisha Frerrer, Iun Kattawa, one of the Puffsteins.”</p>
<p>“He would be useful,” Duggit recommended. The group agreed. </p>
<p>James hesitated, and then growled, “Teddy.”</p>
<p>“What? No. I can’t even feign suspendi--” Chas protested, <br/>“I meant he’s got at least a couple. Despite him being a Professor. Girls mostly, and he’s ‘perfectly amiable with them’, or some rot,” but interrupted rather icily by James.</p>
<p>“Kik in a Slyth?” Duggit raises an eyebrow.</p>
<p>Fred aims Crispy Cat wrappers his way, “He’s a Puff, moron.”</p>
<p>“Nah, dick. We need Slytherins on this with us. We need to do some full-blooded, inter-house and all that shit recruiting, in all actuality.” Duggit explained, with the patience of a very impatient slightly bedraggled Centaur.</p>
<p>Chas gasped and threw all of her fingers and both of her hands up into the air, smashing them against the under-bed above her.</p>
<p>“Fuck, shit, fuck, but --” she gritted, “fuck. What if, ow, </p>
<p>(Fred casts a silent Episkey from the carpet, now propped upon his elbows.)</p>
<p>-- thank you F -- we made an actual go of it.” She says without breath. looked around at the boys. Chas was the most recent addition to their friendship ship, and perhaps the most valuable. “Dolts. An actual campaign! Ted’s Transfic Prof and on the Board. And if we got him on with us -- which shouldn’t be too difficult, all familial devtions and hooplaincestandJameswhatnot considered -- we’d stand a real chance at getting them binned. At the very least, cameras confiscated. Filched. Utterly and hopelessly fucking Filched.” And Chas says it with such unabashed shark-like glee, the boys can’t help but to be persuaded. </p>
<p>With one reservation: “Chastayn King, he’s a Puff. He’s not going to go for the flaming of the self-entitled and so-called, “Free Press”. Even if it is really the proper thing to be done.”</p>
<p>Duggit snickered. “James, he’s yours, then. And I’ll kik the Slyths. Freddy-boy?”</p>
<p>He crosses his eyes. “Can I just be responsible for the Lily-Potting?”</p>
<p>Chas looks to James for consent with this one. </p>
<p>He shrugs. “You’re as capable as any other not me, I suppose.”</p>
<p>Fred sits up criss-cross applesauce. “I’ll be better, mate. I’ll be best.” He leans in and makes a strange V with his fingers atop his forehead. “Sailor Scout’s honour. Oishokyo,” he whispers with all the solemnity of a flower falling atop a sinking casket.</p>
<p>“Don’t you disappoint, Ami-chan.” James responds equally.</p>
<p>Duggit and Chas have just started another face-pulling conversation when James clears his throat.</p>
<p>“Right. Well, that’s settled. Chas, you’ve clearly taken the mantle of HBIC. I assume Glox’ll play B’s Hand. Where do we begin?” </p>
<p>Without directives, they all coaslesce onto Duggit’s four-poster. Chas already having Conjured a scroll and gelly, James already unfurling the Map, and Fred already mentally-detailing his stash of pilfered Wheezes. </p>
<p>After three hours of debate (sniping), they’ve schemed a soluably successful plot.</p>
<p>“FREEDOM!” The four cry, hurling all schematics and materials across the dorm.</p>
<p>A rustle of curtains and springs is heard. “Mightn’t the four of you piss the fuck off? Beauty must needs, here!”</p>
<p>“Have you been -- seriously -- how long do you sleep!?” Fred sputtered and James whispered apologies and Chas spelled away the mess of Crispy Cats and Duggit held the door pointedly. The four comrades slunk down to the now-cleared common room. </p>
<p>Duggit pauses before kicking back, “Fog’d be invaluable, as well. Chas -- you got that?”</p>
<p>“Natch,” she flicks her hair.</p>
<p>He proudly reclines, “Then I’ll be on Fugue like a phoenix on a basilisk.” </p>
<p>They watch the fire burn into the early morning and finally make their way to their dorms for slumber.</p>
<p>James dreams of winding barricades and battle cries and storms of flash photography.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>October 12, 20??</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>The Trough</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>SOME STORY ON THE KIDS (HAS TEDDY LUPIN GAINED WEIGHT? HAS JAMES POTTER BEEN MAGICALLY ENHANCING HIS FEET ILLEGALLY?TO RUN FASTER?)SOME BALONY LIKE THA.T</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>PICTURES</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>The Fearsome Five prepare for first Quidditch game of Season: Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw</strong>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <strong>Captain James Sirius Potter (Chaser), Tulane Barker (7YR) (Beater), and Floyd Duggit (Keeper), make moves on Pitch with rest of team: Scout Wulfric (Beater), Marcel Firmin (Chaser), Sun Yung-Seo (7YR) (Chaser), and Aza Namir (Seeker) as squad Fred Weasley II and Gloxinia Greengrass and Chastayne King sneer from sidelines.<em></em></strong>
  </em>
  <em></em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>At the Gryffindor Table the following morning the scene was this: clumps of sunset, strawberry, elderberry, galaxy, and chestnut. A tawny owl stood in the middle. <br/>    Gloxinia Greengrass performed a perfect bowtie, “There. Let it off?” She asked Chas, James by extension.<br/>    “Ya bae.” Duggit said. “The mash, Fred.”<br/>    Fred, having hovered over the bowl for the past five or so minutes of conversation, snapped out and spelled a lump onto Duggit’s place.<br/>    “Thanks, boo-beans.” <br/>    Chas nodded, James nodded, Glox released the owl. Satisfied with his job well-done, Duggy tucked in.<br/>    Glox leaned into James, “I’m done eating. I’ll go over now.” <br/>    She placed a delicate kiss atop Duggy’s elderberry curls (and stuck a finger in his mash) before heading over to the Hufflepuff table for her part in Phase 1 (licking the mash from her digit the entire way).<br/>    “Captain, you’re on deck.” Duggy professed around a mouthful. Fred was dangling bacon over his head and catching it in his mouth, doglike. <br/>    “Not me, not now. He’s too busy.” James narrowed eyes at the Staff table where Teddy was laughing over kippers with Trelawney. He could talk to anyone, earnestly. It boggled the James.<br/>    “Fine. And I’m not surprised.” Chas slammed her heels and palms as she got up from the table. “But I’m pleased to do it, anyway.” She grinned her shark one and stalked over to the Ravenclaw table, stood patiently aside her crush, Ghuna Boot, and sat.<br/>    “Fred, go Lily-Pot. Duggy, be a mate, shut your gob, get to class.” Fred saluted, loaded a bowl and took it with him to go sit with the third year Slytherin, Lily Luna Potter. Duggy was less enthusiastic. <br/>    “Yes, doll.” He snapped as he crunched one last bacon strip. <br/>    “Arithmancy, Fugue, Blah, Etc.” He drawled, standing.<br/>    “Aye. Now, hop to.” James waved him off, hitting his behind.<br/>    “Teddy saw! Grubby hands!” Duggy mouthed as he backed away.<br/>    James looked towards Teddy and he was looking. Indeed.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Now all his friends were off and gone to work their parts in Phase 1, and James had yet to do his or work up the courage to even get close, he scooted a few centimeters down the table.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>    “So, Aza, about the Corkscrew Twiddly-thingy...” and he illustrated the Quidditch move they’d been practicing and resolutely stuffed more toast down his gullet.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Not thinking of Teddy. Not thinking of talking with Teddy. Not thinking of talking with Teddy alone in a classroom again. </em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>Again, again.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It’s all so fucking circular.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>James can’t hold his toast.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>It flies into Rollyns’ goblet across the table.</em>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <em>“Scamander!” James exclaims. The farce begins. Phase 1 begins.</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Albus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Albus Severus Potter and Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy had been zipped together in Potions. </p><p>“Boys, the shade is indigo, not violet. Do I need to fetch a colour-wheel?” Professor Dymen admonished. “Really, you two,” she jabbed at each of them with her wand, “reduced to... this.” She waved her wand over the cauldron as she spoke it. She shook her head and paced away.</p><p>Had been.<br/>Now, <br/>unzippered.</p><p>“Rose Granger-Weasley! Wonderful! This is indigo. Potter, Malfoy, have a gander. See, indigo.” </p><p>The boys trudged over to Rose’s cauldron and gave it the cursory once-over Dymen was waiting for.</p><p>“Twenty minutes until dismissal. Vials, my desk.” She strode back over to the boys’ table, they following, slowly, dragging. “Potter, Malfoy. I’m sorry.” She Vanished the violet soup. “No marks.”</p><p>“What!” Scorpius protested, about to claim, “My Father, Board of Governers, Malfoy, Zippity-Doo-Da-Day, and so on.” He only tried out the Father bit when he was well and truly desperate. Albus wondered.</p><p>“Not terribly fair.” Albus ground out, interrupting.</p><p> “Life isn’t fair. It’s better this way. Maybe you’ll learn a lesson, this lesson.” She smiled, cruelly. Or were there Nargles spinning about Albus again? Amused by her joke.</p><p>    It’s better this way.</p><p>“Yes, surely, Professor,” Scorpius cowed. His blonde, silver, ermine hair seemed </p><p>less</p><p> this year. Or something like that.</p><p>More Nargles.</p><p>“We’ll get it right Friday.” Albus gathered his kit, not looking, not --</p><p>“Unstrap your strop, Potter.” Scorpius snipped, flicking his own kit together. </p><p>Albus dropped a vial clunk clitter clatter onto the table. <br/>    “I wasn’t the one who was about to whinge Father when she Vanished our Shit Soda.” He retaliated.<br/>    “I only partnered with you because of your surname.” Malfoy spat, pronounced, reveled.<br/>    “I only partnered with you because I felt SORRY FOR YOU.” Albus roared, confessed. Immediately, he was ashamed. He wasn’t supposed to -- it wasn’t supposed to go --</p><p> it wasn’t better this way.</p><p>    “Well, this has been about as pleasant as a Triwizard Tournament.” He bristled, flushed rosewater pink. “I think I hear Cil calling. Da, Pot --” A camera flashed from the back of the room. An oaky brown head ducked behind a table.</p><p>    “Fuck! Fucking Circe, Sinsa, I swear if I catch you I’ll --” and his threat tapered into nothingness because the girl had already scarpered. <br/>    Albus clutched the air, clutched his knuckles grasping, gasping for something tangible something he could he hurled his Potions kit somewhere, somewhere in the room and it all cracked and sizzled and fizzled and for a moment, it was better that way.</p><p>    Scorpius was staring at him. Pityingly. “And today, it’s me who feels sorry for you. Ro -- your cousin’s waiting.” And he turned and he was gone.<br/>    Rose had the camera dangling from her hand. It was sizzling and fizzling, too.<br/>    “I spelled it when she turned the corridor.”<br/>    “And Mini-Fyred the contents.”<br/>    “And now I’m going to Vanish it. spe” The camera was gone. “I wish --”</p><p>    “James was here?” a new voice spiralled in from the corridor. He stepped into the room with a very and usual Jamesey flourish. “Lucky days, cu,” <br/>    “What do you w--” Albus began still wheeling from Scorpius but </p><p>“Alby,” James cut into the dungeon, brisk and tenured and Muffliato-ed and<br/>    “I need to borrow dear Invisby.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. James</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James followed in paces the shadows of his younger brother and cousin up and up to their tower. He’d been there before.</p><p>“What do you think this will accomplish, exactly?” Rose pressed.</p><p>“He’s just going to get us in the red.” Albus muttered, taking the stairs, one, one, one pace at a time. His face was furrowed. He looked burrowed. </p><p>James knew everything but couldn’t say a word to comfort that tiny, jumpity, rabbit nose. He had tried, all Summer. A fine Ravenclaw bird passed by, one of Alby’s year he presumed. He tried to roll the old ‘smile and wink’, but it felt stale. It tasted stale in his mouth.</p><p>Nothing would ever taste<br/>like the things<br/>he had tasted.</p><p>“I suppose, turns, is what they should’ve taken.” Rose snapped at the door-knocker.</p><p>“You know, it might have worked if they had.” The knocker admitted, and Albus hurled against the door rather more violently than James was used to. He glanced over to Rosie, concerned.</p><p>She shook her head.</p><p>“For all of our sakes,” she paused, “I hope this stupid, gargantuan plot of yours alls works, James Sirius.” She toned, musically with footsteps and bags opening and a book snapping to that<br/>crisp and correct </p><p>page she was looking for and she remained on the cushions refusing to participate any further.</p><p>“So, you really think Teddy’ll help dismantle the Hog-parazzi?” Albus asked as he led his brother up the spiral and spindly stairs.</p><p>“How are you not afraid of falling off these every day?” James guffawed, looking down, “Sorry, I meant, sure. Yes. Probably. He’s a Huff, and a puff, and down with all the hoi polloi and, <br/>stuff.” James finished rather lamely, still looking at his feet moving ever upward.</p><p>“It was your new King’s idea, wasn’t it?” Albus cottoned, continuing up.</p><p>“Huh?” James stared at the back of his younger brother’s bronze head. “Yeah, well, and no. It was all of ours.” He finished. Again, rather lamely. </p><p>“Ours, being?” Albus gestured. “Because if it’s indeed ours, I want a part. You could do better,” he expanded. He pointed out the places as dormitories they passed, where their plan had holes, where their plan (Chas’ mostly, James was honest), had slips and missteps. “Here.” Alby stopped, abruptly, James rammed into his back and the<br/>door opened into cornflower light.</p><p>“Merlin and Morgana both, I loathe those fucking stairs.” James sat on the floor immediately, grateful it was still, it was flat, it had no holes.</p><p>“And how you’re flash on a broom every weekday just boggles.” Albus retorted, opening his trunk. His hands worked like a steady fall of snow.</p><p>James relished the carpeting. He rolled back and he rolled forth and he did not at all dread seeing Teddy in the few minutes he would be. (And he’d have to make it back down that bloody staircase before.)</p><p>“I’m tired of it, too.” Albus spoke, quietly, into the hood of his trunk. “Sco - Malfoy and I, <br/>“You can say his name, fuck’s sake,” James interrupted and sat.<br/>“ -- Scorpius and I,” gritting teeth against tongue muscle, and cow, “one of them caught us up rowing the other night.” He sighed.</p><p>“Do they know?” James’ curiousity piqued. Of course, knowing his brother, knowing the Malfoy, they shouldn’t but again, knowing them, they might.</p><p>“No. Not yet, anyway.” Albus gloomily garbled up the cloak and tossed it atop his flat brother on the floor. “Obviously both Malf, Scorp, we, would like to keep it that way. I want to keep it that way. I don’t want --”</p><p>“I know. And the family finding out this way.” James intoned.</p><p>“Yes.” Albus agreed.</p><p>“Do you ever think,” </p><p>“All I ever do,” </p><p>Albus inserted as James run the cloak like water between his knuckles and his thumb. They sat in silence both, in the sickly sunshined room. Minutes passed.</p><p>“Well, Ted’ll help. Chas and Glox are sure of it. He’s got his own leeches to watch for, why wouldn’t he?” James ran the cloak across the carpet.</p><p>“Just --” Albus hesitated, gnawing the tip of his tongue as he did, “ask in the right way. Not the way you think you should,” he reflected, more upon his own faults than James’, James was sure, “the way he thinks you should. The right way.” He finished<br/>slammed the trunk shut.</p><p>“Right,” James repeated, not considering at all his younger brother’s words. “The right way.”</p><p>“A lot seems to be resting on Phase 1. If y, we -- fail, what happens?” Albus tapped the top of his trunk in a melancholic melody.</p><p>“We regroup, replenish, and respawn!” James stood and grinned. That proud-safe, fail-safe look on his face once more. “But Chas knows what she’s doing. And if a king can’t lead her subjects, well,”</p><p>“You’re going to enlist the Notts, aren’t you?” Albus surmised.</p><p>“Oh, brother mine. And that’s why Phase 1 isn’t going to fail.” James, like Peter Pan, let himself out of the room, all hands on hips and smug boy arrogance and cloak on tight with no shadow in sight.</p><p>Albus, James hoped, believed.</p><p>James made it down the stairs.</p><p>Just barely.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yeet!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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